Fairy Tale
by Achenar
Summary: Fujin reflects on life after the Second Sorceress War, and a certain fire god... Rated PG for very slight language, and some sexual innuendo.


A/N: Well, another fic. I'm on a roll. So, in the past few weeks, I've written a Selphie fic, a Rinoa fic, and now a Seifuu. Yep. This is really awful, in my eyes, but I'm posting it anyway. However, on my first edit – I've just started school back, and my computer has decided not to allow me to upload fics. Smelly computer. And so, I have to go to a fellow Fanfiction.Net author's house – DuckSorceress, you rule, and happy birthday! – to upload this. I was going there anyway. Yep. 

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything in this fic. Squaresoft does. Not even the Ragnarok, which is something I'd love to have. I wonder if they sell them on Ebay?**

Fairy Tale 

There was always pain, now. The wind could only ever take so much from her, whipping around her and relieving her of the pain, bearing her upwards on transparent wings. Wings… not feathered, but butterfly wings, graceful and sparkling, the wings that needed not to be seen to be there. The mark of a true child of the wind.

They called the other one an angel. The sorceress, with the dark hair and ditzy manner. The comparisons, she'd decided, were inaccurate. They hadn't been there, for that summer fling _he'd_ had with her. Spoilt brat, she was; a bitter laugh rose from her throat as she thought this. She could imagine Leonhart putting up with the little bitch.

"Oh, Squally-poo, kiss me!" A ditzy little twitter.

"..."

"Now!" More indignant now.

"…"

"Meanie!" Sob sob, cry cry.

Yes… Leonhart deserved that. His own bad taste in women, really. Even that Tilmitt girl would have been better – anyone could see that under that infernal bouncing, there was actually a human. The brat was just… a brat, through and through. That was it, really. And then, she'd gotten sorceress powers – Edea's, first – so she could be even more spoilt, threatening to Firaga any who refused to give her what she wanted.

Sorceress…angel. Hah. Angel. That would indicate purity of some sort.

"Seifer, Seifer, why do you keep looking over there? Oooh, you're looking at that girl, aren't you!" Not a question, a statement. Sobsob. "I'm much prettier.. looko at her nose!"

It had been all Fujin could do not to kick her. Seifer was getting sick of her by the end of their holidays, too, and they'd often stayed up late with coffee, after the 'angel' had gone to bed, laughing behind her back. That was just what they did. They were no strangers to pain, not at all, but Rinoa had been a grating, rubbing, whining pain. Not an angel at all.

He'd called her a goddess, once. Once, when he was fuzzy from alcohol and overly affectionate. She'd kicked him, but hadn't been able to suppress that tell-tale pink, the colour in her cheeks. He'd laughed, then.

"Fuj, don't tell me you're goin' soft now."

And the other one, the lightning god.. he'd just given her an irritating pet name. She kicked him, too, but she did that anyway, and he understood. Understood too well.

The three of them were above the 'heroes', really. They were deities, deserved more than they'd gotten. Admittedly, the fire god had made a few bad decisions, but that was understandable, really. It didn't warrant the treatment they'd been given. Run out of Balamb, out of Esthar, out of Fisherman's Horizon. Galbadia had accepted them. In a way, anyway – if one took 'accepted' to mean 'three strikes, you're out'.

They'd needed those chances..and many more.

He'd gone crazy – not clinically, but his soul was sick, wasting away. The fire was leaving, the godliness faltering. It had scared her; scared her to death. He'd turned up, one night, raving and ranting about Leonhart and his happy little group, about how they'd got all this glory while the posse, the true heroes were stuck in that pit. He was escorted by a guard. First strike. Apparently he'd gotten drunk, and smashed up some guy's face who was talking about Leonhart's wedding to the 'angel'.

Wonder how much about Seifer's relationship with her, is known to her knight. He wouldn't put up with the simpering girl if he knew… and it was surprising he'd put up with her in the first place. She'd have thought he had more sense than that.

When did she become so cynical?

She thought about that, sometimes. She figured it was between  the second and third strike. It was always the same thing. A mention of Balamb, or the Commander, and he'd go off. Boom. Byebye chairs, windows, whatever else were in the way of his fiery rage.

They'd lasted a month.

And so, with nowhere else to go, they'd bought a boat and some food with their meagre stores of money – Galbadia had compensated them, a little, and there was money from the Sorceress. It didn't last long. A boat, some food supplies, some clothes. They'd headed for Centra, for the orphanage, which Seifer remembered, all of a sudden, from his childhood. He was instantly blaming the GFs – he'd rarely used them, since leaving Garden to help Rinoa – something she was yet to understand – but he'd always followed the train of thought that he hadn't needed them. GFs were good to blame.

Their life had taken a strange pattern, then. Seifer bidding them leave, his loyal – hah, she thought, as if loyalty was all that mattered – companions refusing, the fire god retreating for a day or so. They naturally stayed, helped him through another bout of depression or anger. He'd return to them after a while.. but more of him retreated every day.

She was, in a way, the woman of the house. Only, of course, in that she was the only female – the other two had given up chauvinism after the first kick or two. Raijin and herself shared the housework. She cooked, he cleaned. One of her few talents, cooking. Cook, fight, sleep, wake up to cook, fight, cook, and retreat, come up here to think. Her days took on a pattern easily.

Occasionally, she rode the winds, rode them far away, back to Galbadia, stealing away in the dead of the night and gathering the supplies which they couldn't get anywhere else. It was an interesting experience; she'd been doing it for as long as she could remember; lying down, opening her mind, finding the wind and riding with it, following it to some storehouse or another. She'd been given a room to herself, and the men knew not to disturb her, so she could do this without them realising. Seifer barely noticed anything strange, but Raijin… Raijin, she thought, guessed occasionally, but never said anything.

They'd turned the area around the wrecked orphanage into a farm, of sorts, planting trees and vegetables, which they shared the job of caring for. That flower field had become a nice enough field for an orchard – the flowers were fewer, now, though they sprouted up around the cleared areas. Raijin was forever trying to make the ex-orphanage brighter by placing them around. For a while, they'd been okay.

The Sorceress, Edea, had turned up one day, in the red ship that now belonged to Balamb Garden... accompanied by a group of SeeDs. And a Commander.

Seifer had disappeared for a week, as soon as he'd seen the ship, abandoned his 'subordinates' to them.

Edea had decided against returning, once she'd seen the work they were struggling to do, had returned to Garden with a silent apology for the goddess, a knowing kindness. She was the only one who knew of Seifer's presence at the partially repaired building. After that time working with him, controlled or not, and apparently looking after him when he was a child, she knew his psychic scent. She'd said nothing to the SeeDs, just mentioned that she'd like for Raijin and Fujin – 'these two', with a meaningful look at them, willing them not to speak of their third member – to stay there, and be peaceful.

Seifer had returned eventually, battered and bloodied. They'd never found out where he went. A cave somewhere, they guessed, but never questioned him. They knew he wouldn't answer. He scowled when Fujin forced him to go straight to bed, complained that he was perfectly healthy, that it wasn't his blood.

But he was wasting away, slowly, his dreams and regrets eating at him, more and more. It had been a year since Ultemecia's defeat, now, and he was slowly becoming a shell of his former self. Hollowed out by pain and grief, his humour was generally ill, and his skin was paling from the former rich white-gold, turning grey-hued. Her colour, grey. For a wind goddess, not a fire god.

She stood on the roof of the old orphanage, her arms out stretched. The pain kept coming. Seeing him battered, world-weary, ready to give up and die. Watching Raijin's jokes become strained and even worse than before, watching the big oaf become almost as withdrawn as the other – almost, though he tried to be happy. It was hard to be happy in this place – a place abandoned long ago by happiness, yet vivid with plant life. 

And she knew that the same weariness was coming over her.

They'd seen the world, seen everything, done everything, been everything. Hero, villain, criminal… Been everything but happy, perhaps, truly happy. That was for other people.

She could feel him climbing onto the roof behind her. Another strained conversation; another time for her to hide away the feelings, the pain. She was the strong one. Never cry, never falter. The wind goddess, ever sure, strong, distant from emotion. Cold, unforgiving, untouchable. Never to really command or be commanded, never, _never_ to be harnessed or truly loved.

"Fujin."

"SEIFER."

"What're ya doing?"

"THINKING."

"What about?" He knew the answer. This was the same conversation they'd had, every day, for the past three months. She had to answer anyway…or did she?

She remained silent.

"Fuu?" His voice seemed troubled, worried by this sudden change in the routine. He was regressing to needing the most simple of conversations for his sanity. This was his lifeline.. but maybe he could survive anyway. Worth a try. Be strong, fire god.

"YES?"

"Hah. Never mind, Fuu." He stared out past her, at the sea. "It just kills me, you know. Leonhart and his brats are off having five star treatment... and he killed just as many people as me." A slight lie, a slight exaggeration… but he had to try, didn't he. And this was the closest to a real conversation they'd had. Maybe she could get the anger to rise forth in him. That, at least, was life of a sort.

"YES… REGRET?"

His laughter was bitter. "What do you think, Fujin? Of course I regret! The wrong sorceress, or the wrong was to go about this… all of this."

"ACTIONS, CHANGE?"

"Would I change what I did?… no." She could hear the surprise in his answer. "The glory…if I could have that again… Fujin, it's all I ever wanted. That was my life, Fuj."

"KNOW." She did, too well. And it hurt, hurt like hell that he'd never want anything more than a sorceress to look after.

But was there a difference? All she wanted was a knight. Her knight. Did that hurt someone? Raijin, maybe? He knew, had comforted her on those nights when the pain was too much. He wasn't as stupid as he acted. She knew that, Seifer knew that. Her soul brother was smart, really, below his affectations. But he was a brother… not more, no. Wind and thunder, elements of a storm.

"Really, though, Fuu… what're you thinking about?" Seifer's voice interrupted her from her reverie.

"NO—" Her automatic answer, cut off. He was serious. She sighed, concentrating. So hard, to modulate her voice. Harsh, gutteral. Easier to speak one word, maybe two, than to concentration keeping her voice soft. 

But the time for speeches was once more. The goddess-in-her knew that, instinctively… just like she had the last time.

"…Everything. Life. Death. You, Raijin, me. /Them/. Galbadia. Here..." Not so good. Abbreviated, though, and easier. The longer speech had broken her heart once… maybe this wouldn't.

"Wow. Fujin, the deep-thinker."

She took a deep breath. Now or never, right?

"You and me, mostly." There. Done..right?

She could feel his thoughts stumble, realign. Then there was an arm hooked around her waist, and the smell of leather, of gunblade polish, of sweat. She froze a little, wanting so much to snuggle into his lean frame, but so afraid. Afraid? The wind goddess? That wasn't right.

"Me and you, Fuu? What about me and you?" His voice was soft, without that dangerous edge.

"N-nothing." She falters, now. She won't say more. One can't interrogate the wind goddess. She'll disappear, turn into nothing.

Two strong, gloved fingers slip under her chin, turning her head to face him. His brows are arched, a half-smile upon his features. "Fuuuu…"

"Fairytale, not." She answered after a moment. Cryptic enough. Maybe he won't work it out, will give up, and forget. It's not a fairy tale – he and she can't work together like this, her heart is breaking, slowly, it's not fair. Too many interpretations; surely he won't get them all.

"Fuu?" His breathing stops, for a moment, and she can hear him swallow. Damn. He understood. They know each other too well, have for years, since the day she and Raijin arrived at Garden and he was given the task of showing her around. He'd tried, for a moment, to terrorise her; Raijin had been about to defend his younger adopted sister, when she'd lashed out, kicked the blond boy in the shins. He'd laughed, then, and welcomed them, recognising them for who they were – above the cadets, the SeeDs. Better than them all… right?

"...Why not, Fuu?"

She looked up at him, startled. His hand slipped gently around, cupping her cheek; and then his lips met hers, and he was kissing her, and she was kissing back.

They stayed like that for a while, sitting on the edge of the roof, kissing and hugging; with each kiss, she was sure she could see another spark of the old flame in his eyes. Another bit of life, the spirit, the dancing fire. The passion.

And she wanted as much of that back as possible.

They needed no words; really, they never had. Their hearts were of one kind, the three of them… that two were mirrors was of no consequence.

The wind altered, to a gentle breeze; in the fireplace inside, the fire burned more brightly than ever before.

Sitting in front of that fireplace, mending Seifer's well-loved coat, Raijin grinned.

The three were back.

She did it.

"I knew you could, Fuu-sama."

~fin~

A/N: There. Done. Any good? Review if you'd like.


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